


Stealing a Thief's Heart

by towblerone



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Robbery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 02:27:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3102005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/towblerone/pseuds/towblerone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You just got started at your new job as a detective working for the police. Current targets: “The Pirates”, World Class Thieves. But it’s not helping that one of them seems completely smitten with you. Modern AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stealing a Thief's Heart

When you cracked your eyes open that morning, you almost leaped out of bed with excitement. Today was your first day at your new job.

Primarily, you had graduated from Harvard Law. After that, you got into a police Academy. It had taken years of expensive schooling and training, but a few months ago, you had finally finished your journey on becoming a licensed detective.

It had been a long and lonely road. At times, it seemed like you would never be able to achieve your life-long dream, but you powered through it.

Your dedication to it was sometimes frustrating, even to yourself. You weren’t generally social, but you prefer to have strong personal connections with a handful of people.

You’d had a lover or two along the way, and it was wonderful while it lasted, but every time without fail, one of you would break it off. Usually because they thought you focused on work too much. Which was fine with you, because if they couldn’t handle that you were dedicated to your career, then you deserved better.

After you completed training, you applied everywhere, but most places wanted a detective with experience, not someone fresh out of the academy. For the first few months, you got yourself a part-time job just to pay the bills, but you didn’t lose hope.

And it paid off, because a week ago, you got a call all the way from the police department in Los Angeles. They said they’d seen your exceptional grades from the Academy you’d attended and offered you a case, right off the bat.

"If you do well, you may be offered a permanent job," the man on the phone said to you.

It had taken everything in your power not to scream into the receiver from excitement, and it goes without saying that you accepted gratefully. Within a week, you had your belongings packed and were on a plane to LA.

You planned on staying a while, so once you got to your new residence, you even got yourself a cat to stave off the solitude (you’d always wanted one). He was a very friendly cat with big chartreuse eyes. You wouldn’t exactly call him sleek, but he was definitely short-furred, and was white with big black splotches on his body.

He reminded you a lot of Tom Hanks’ inanimate volleyball companion in the movie Cast Away, with the way he would always just sit there and stare at you. So you named him Wilson.

Los Angeles was a big city, and it would take some getting used to, but you were just over the moon about your new job.

You flung the sheets off your body and hopped into the shower. Once you got out, you dressed yourself in the most professional-looking clothes you owned. You wanted to make a good first impression, after all. You had an apple and some toast for breakfast, as well as a cup of coffee.

You said goodbye to Wilson, and began your first day as a detective in LA.

—

Benjamin Hornigold rubbed his temple. He had been up for over a day browsing the computer, looking for a good lead, only getting up to eat and take a leak.

He, along with his partners Charles, Edward, and Thatch, were thieves. International criminals. Wanted in eight countries.

They’d made quite a name for themselves. Or, he supposed, the authorities did. Interpol called their little group “The Pirates”, though Ben couldn’t tell you why.

Each of the four men played different parts in each operation.

Edward Kenway was their main field man. He was the youngest, so he was the fastest. Always stuck to the shadows, too, so he was good for stealth missions (which was most, if not all, of their missions). He was quick to get in and out unseen, and was invaluable to their group.

Charles Vane was the secondary field man. He wasn’t as light-footed as Kenway, but he was twice as strong and excellent in a fight, should one happen. He was quick of tongue and short of temper, though, and had wicked violent tendencies, so they mainly saved Charles for the less-sensitive jobs such as stealing from places that weren’t heavily guarded so he couldn’t get into too much trouble.

Edward Thatch was their weapons expert. They called him Thatch or Blackbeard, due to him and Kenway having the same first name. They didn’t make use of his weapons often, because they preferred stealth to conflict. They weren’t murderers…or at least, most of them weren’t. But it was always good to have him around. He used to be a field man as well, but he was the oldest in the group, and though he wasn’t crippled or anything, he preferred to give tactical advice. He also had countless connections to very helpful outside sources.

As for himself, he was mainly the expert in computers and technology. He would surf the internet, looking for articles on expensive museum exhibits and the like, for ideas on their next big heist. He was quite adept at disarming security systems, and could even create interference in guards’ radio systems without breaking a sweat. He wasn’t so much the field man. He could do well if he had to, but he was mainly a behind-the-scenes kind of guy.

Currently, everyone was in their temporary hideout but Edward. They’d sent him on a quick food run to the little market run by their “acquaintance” Stede Bonnet. They had a…special deal with Stede. Buy from his market, and he’d shut his fat mouth about them when it came to the cops.

They hadn’t had a good opportunity in weeks, and the inactivity was getting to them.

Edward burst into the room, several plastic bags dangling from his arms.

"Jaysus, it was packed today," he said with a sigh. "One of ya get over here and help me with all these bags."

Ben signaled that he was currently busy, and couldn’t help at present. Charles, who was not busy, just shook his head and said “nope”, popping the ‘p’ sound at the end. That left Thatch, who rolled his eyes and got up to help Edward.

Ben ignored the sound of the rustling bags and continued to search various news sites, pictures, and videos. He was beginning to give up hope, but he finally found a picture that caught his eye.

"Found something?" Thatch called. He had some strange ability to almost read Ben’s mind. It was kind of scary. But, he supposed it wasn’t all that surprising. They’ve been friends for almost twenty years now.

"As a matter of fact, I may have," he responded. "Come have a look."

Everyone stopped what they were doing to crowd around the computer screen.

"Looks like one o’ the Senators recently purchased themselves quite the necklace,” he explained, pointing to the picture.

The picture wasn’t the best of quality, but the necklace was stunning. It was gold, and had a large red gemstone that looked about the size of a dollar-coin. On each side of the monstrous stone were two diamonds. They were smaller, but still quite large.

"Would you look at the size of those?" Thatch said, amazed.

"Aye, that’d be worth a small fortune," said Edward before biting into a nectarine.

"Right, that’s our next target then. Thatch, see if you can’t find the blueprints for the Senator’s house. Once you’ve done that, we can start a plan."

—

About a week into your new job, the police received a call. You recall sitting at your small desk and seeing the head detective pick up the phone. You heard him trying to calm someone down, and when he hung up, he sighed and called out for you.

"Sir?" you said.

"I need you to go down to the Senator’s residence," he ordered, giving you the address. "Normally, I wouldn’t send someone new to such an important job, but everyone else is busy."

"What happened there?"

"A robbery," he said. "I know that’s usually the sort of thing Patrol handles, but we’ve got confirmation that The Pirates are behind this one."

Ah, the group of thieves you’d heard so much about. Joy swelled in your chest. Yes, it was because he had no other option, but you were finally going to be doing detective work!

"I’ll get down there right away, sir."

It was a rather long drive, even for a city of this size. When you got there and knocked on the door, the Senator opened it and you felt your breath leave your body.

This was an important job, you could not screw this up.

You gave the Senator your name.

"I’m a detective working for the Police Department. I understand there’s been a robbery?" you say in a gentle, yet authoritative voice.

"Yes," she replied.

"May I come in?"

—

The gang sat in a car across the street from the Senator’s house, watching the detective enter the house. They enjoyed returning to the scene of the crime from time to time, especially on big hits like this one.

Currently, Edward had the binoculars and was squinting into them.

"I don’t recognize the detective," he said. "What about you, Thatch?"

Thatch was currently examining the necklace. The man put the jewelry down, took the binoculars from the blonde, and peered into them. It took a moment, as he had to wait for this mysterious detective to talk in front of the window, but he shrugged.

"Nope," he said. "Must be new here."

Charles was fiddling with something paper in his hands, his leg bouncing up and down.

Ben rolled his eyes. He hated being stuck in this shit car.

—

After questioning the Senator briefly, you had her take you to where the stolen item was supposed to be.

"It was a necklace," she explained as you followed her up the stairs, "with two diamonds and a ruby for the pendant. A gift."

When you reached her room, an overwhelming smell of expensive perfume hit you. It gave you a terrible headache almost instantly. She pointed to a jewelry box.

When you opened the box, you found nothing but a small paper skull-and-crossbones about the size of your palm.

"The Pirates’ calling card," you said to yourself.

—

Charles continued to flip and fold the piece of paper in his hand.

"Can we do somethin’ different?" he said. "Let’s rob a jewelry store or somethin’. Let’s do something fun for once."

Ben rolled his eyes for what must have been the eighth time that hour. It was becoming a habit.

"We’re not robbers, Vane, we’re thieves, there’s a diff-"

"Actually," Thatch called from his seat. "That might be a nice change of pace."

"See? Thatch agrees with me," Charles said smugly. "Kenway?"

"Can’t say I don’t like the idea," he said. "It has been pretty slow lately."

"Then it’s settled. Sorry, Ben. Majority rules," Thatch rumbled with a deep laugh as Ben pouted.

"I don’t like this," he mumbled as they drove away.

—

"Thank you for your time, ma’am. I swear, I’ll do everything in my power to see that justice is done."

You exited the expensive, mansion-like house, huffing. The Senator was incredibly difficult, which you learned quickly. She would easily get off-track when you were asking questions, and was constantly asking questions of her own.

To say you were glad to be out of there and away from her was an understatement.

As you moved towards your car, another vehicle across the street drove off, and out of one of the windows a piece of paper fluttered towards the concrete.

"Fucking slobs," you said, shaking your head in disapproval. Littering was one of your pet peeves. You strode over and picked it up, intending to put it in the trash, but stopped when you saw what it was.

The piece of paper you held in your hand was identical to the one you’d seen inside the Senator’s house.

This was a Pirate’s calling card.

Snapping your head up, you looked off in the direction the car had drove, and luckily, it was still in sight, but just barely. You would have to be fast.

You wasted no time in running to your car, yanking the door open, and jumping in.

You had criminals to catch.

—

"Shut yer trap!" Charles roared at the jewelry store’s owner, who was cowering in fear. Charles had his handgun pointed at the poor man. Meanwhile, Ben and Edward smashed open the display cases. Thatch kept watch.

"Hurry it up!" Thatch called, "I think that detective might be here."

"Whaddya mean you think she might be here?” Edward hissed. “She’s either here or she’s not.”

There was a pause.

"She’s definitely here, then.”

"Oh for fuck’s sake," Ben groaned. "Just grab what you can and let’s get the hell out of here, then!"

They scooped any and all pieces of jewelry they could get their hands on, broken glass and all, and shoved it into the bags they carried.

Thatch swore under his breath.

"She sees me," he said. He broke out into a run, heading to the back entrance. "Come on!"

Charles and Edward were quick to join Thatch in his escape, but Ben cursed as he dropped the bag onto the floor. He hurriedly picked up what he could, but as he stood, a gun clicked.

"Freeze!"

Shit. Shit shit shit.

He should have just kept going without the damned bag. He should have just left it and ran.

Slowly, he raised his hands above his head, dropping the bag in the process. His eyes slowly traveled upward, until they met with the detective’s.

And at the most inappropriate time, she took his breath away.

The second his eyes locked onto hers, he felt his heart racing the way a child’s does when they get some silly schoolboy crush.

The detective was by no means a supermodel, but she was absolutely gorgeous in her own unique way.

Her face was stern with determination, but it only made her that much more beautiful to him. A small lock of her hair fell in front of her left eye, and she blew it away without breaking eye contact.

He had fallen in love with her in mere seconds, all while she pointed a gun at him.

The glass window behind her shattered suddenly, and she screamed in shock. She faltered, moving her gun away from him as she shielded herself from the glass. It provided just the right amount of time for Ben to sprint past her, jump out of the now broken window, and slide into the getaway car as Kenway held the door open for him.

"Fuckin’ drive, Thatch! Christ!” Ben shouted, and Thatch slammed his foot down on the gas. The tires screeched on the pavement, and even as they made their way down the street, the detective fired her gun repeatedly at the car.

—

"Dammit," you cursed. As soon as the robbers had gotten into their own car, you had been in your own and were chasing them all over town.

That was an hour ago, and they were clearly excellent at losing the police, as you hadn’t seen the car in well over fifteen minutes.

First day on the job and you’d already lost your targets.

Dejectedly, you turned and drove back to the Police Department. You were terrified about what the chief would say at your incompetence.

When you pulled into your parking space and turned the engine off, you sat in the car for a good ten minutes before you worked up the courage to face your failure.

It was a short walk up the stairs and to the chief’s office, but it seemed like you were marching off to your death. He looked up and saw you through the window of his office and sprang out of his chair.

"I’ve been getting calls about a jewelry store robbery for the past half-hour," he said, "Care to explain?"

You gulped in an attempt to rid yourself of the lump in your throat.

"The Pirates, sir," you began, voice wavering with anxiety. Then it all came out at once. "They were behind it. I almost had one, but the others broke the window and it startled me and he got away. I tried to follow them, but…" you trailed off. It was too hard to voice your defeat. He was quiet for a while, looking at you.

"Good job."

…what?

"Sir?" you say. "I’m afraid I don’t understand."

"I said you did a good job, what’s not to understand?"

"But…I didn’t catch them…they got away…”

The chief smiled at you.

"That may be, but what you did today," he explained, "was the closest anyone in this city’s ever gotten to catching them. Ever."

"…oh."

The chief gave you a pat on your shoulder, and you felt so much relief flooding your body at the fact that he wasn’t upset with you.

"I’m afraid there wasn’t a license plate, sir," you said. He shook his head.

"There never is."

—

"We should have listened to Ben," Edward said as they entered the hideout. "That was way too fucking close.”

"Agreed," Thatch said, heaving a stressed sigh. "No more robberies."

"I don’t see why you’re all so upset," Charles mocked. "We all got out fine and we got a ton of loot."

"And no more listening to Vane’s crazy suggestions," Thatch continued. Edward agreed, and Charles gave them both his middle finger.

Meanwhile, Ben had been silent since they’d managed to lose the mysterious detective.

"Ben? You alright?"

He waved his hand, but continued to stare blankly at the floor. Just as Edward came closer to put a hand on his shoulder, he shot to his computer and began typing furiously.

He pulled up the Police database and searched everything, looking for any clue on the detective.

"What’s up with him?" Charles said with a scoff.

"I have to know who she is!" Ben replied.

He had to know who this mysterious woman who had stolen his heart so easily was. He had to.

Finally, he found her picture. He hollered triumphantly and clicked on it, leading to her profile.

"Found her!"

The others lazily gathered around, curious about her, but not nearly as interested as Ben was. His eyes scanned over every word.

"Graduated from Harvard Law…top of her class at the Academy…" Ben read aloud to them. "Very nice. She’s…impressive."

"Not bad to look at, either," Charles joked. Ben felt anger boiling his veins.

"Oi!" he said. "Lay off!"

At that outburst, all three men stared in surprise. He swore in his head, over and over again.

Edward was the first to speak.

"Don’t tell me you like her," he said. "Do you?"

Ben blinked rapidly, eyes darting from side to side.

"Hornigold?" he pressed.

He said nothing, and looked away.

All three of his partners broke into hoots of laughter.

"Little Ben’s got a crush on the detective!" Thatch said between wheezes. "Oh this is too good!"

"Piss off!" Ben shouted, his face going hot with embarrassment.

He would never live this down.

But by God, he had to see her again.

—

The next morning, you woke up to Wilson pawing at your face, looking to be fed. You dragged yourself out of the bed and poured the bland pellets of cat food onto a plate for him.

You had at least four hours before you had to be at work, but rather than going back to sleep, you decided to just get an early start. You put on your slippers and opened your front door, intending to get your mail, but you stopped when you saw something on the ground just before your feet.

On the steps was a small bunch of sunflowers. The thick stems were wrapped in a bit of plastic. You picked them up. They were absolutely gorgeous. But who put them there?

"Looks like someone’s got themselves an admirer."

You turned to see your neighbor collecting her own mail.

"Excuse me, but did you happen to see who put these here?" you ask her.

She looked down at the flowers and back at you. Her head shook.

"Afraid not," she answered.

Puzzled, you brought the sunflowers inside and placed them in a tall vase of water. They brightened up the room splendidly.

Very odd.

—

The next week, you arrived at work to find a bouquet of red and yellow tulips on your desk.

They were lovely, and smelled even better, but there was no card. No address. No name.

You brought the flowers to the chief.

"Sir, do you know who put these on my desk, by any chance?" you inquired. "There’s no name card on them."

He made a faint, negative grunt as he took a large gulp of his coffee.

You asked several people around the office, but still got no answers.

Funny, you were a detective and you couldn’t even figure out who the hell kept sending you flowers.

—

"Look at him," Charles growled. "Fucking fool."

Ben ignored him.

"Keeps sendin’ her flowers. Flowers! Idiot."

"Oh, leave him," Thatch said, trying to be reasonable. "It’ll pass."

Ben ignored them again, and arranged for another bouquet to be sent.

—

You nearly caught those damn thieves again. Or at least, you nearly caught one of them.

He had been sighted at a nearby museum, and you rushed over in your car. Everyone else was once again busy with other obligations, so you were on your own a second time.

When you arrived, the museum was completely empty.

You searched through each and every room, looking for any sign of the thief. You looked behind desks, in ventilation shafts, even on the rooftop. But there was no sign of any of them.

You sighed with frustration.

"Looks like it was a false alarm," you muttered to yourself.

As you walked out of the room you were currently standing in, a voice stopped you.

"Maybe it wasn’t."

Spinning around, you found yourself only a few meters from the very man you’d almost caught at the jewelry store.

"Hello, gorgeous," he cooed. "We meet again."

You reached for your gun, but found nothing in the holster.

"Looking for this?" he said nonchalantly, holding it in his hand.

"How did you-"

"I’m a thief, love, it’s my job," he said with a coy smirk.

So. He had your gun. Could very well shoot you right here and now. But as several seconds passed in silence, without either of you making any moves, you realized that was not his intention.

In that time, you got a good look at him. He was handsome, you admitted with some reluctance. He had a strong, broad neck and a square face, but it was attractive. His cheeks were lined with very long, mutton-chop sideburns. Even in the dark, his blue eyes sparkled.

It deeply disturbed you that you were calling him good-looking, even if it was to yourself.

"Fine," you huffed, holding up your fists in preparation. "You have one chance to surrender, Mr…um…"

"Ben," he offered. "You won’t be getting my last name, I’m afraid."

"Okay, Ben…you have one chance to surrender and be taken into custody peacefully, or I will have to use force."

He threw his head back in laughter.

"I’d like to see you try."

Without giving him more time to prepare himself, you darted forward and smacked the gun right out of his hand and onto the marble floor. He was taken aback by your speed, but sobered up when your other fist just barely missed his nose.

"Woah, I didn’t mean it literally!" he joked.

He continued to dodge your attacks, not making a single offensive move and it was puzzling to you. And frustrating.

Finally, he caught one of your wrists with his large hand. You tried to swing the other, but he caught that one as well.

Before you could even think about kicking him, he pushed you backwards into the wall behind you, keeping your wrists trapped.

And he pressed his lips on yours.

You were shocked. Paralyzed, more like. As his lips moved against your stiff ones, your entire mind went blank.

And when your mind had recovered, he was gone.

"Motherf-"

—

When you returned to the office, you were still flabbergasted by the events that transpired at the museum.

You trudged up the stairs, mind racing with so many questions, you couldn’t keep track of them all.

The thought of the kiss made you blush red as a beet. And what’s worse, you couldn’t stop thinking about how much you enjoyed it.

You sat down at your desk, and it was a few minutes before you even noticed the bouquet of red roses that sat on top of your paperwork. You dug through the flowers, expecting there not to be a name card.

Only this time, your hand felt paper.

You gripped it between your fingers and fished it out, only to be filled with rage.

A paper skull-and-crossbones.

Hands shaking angrily, you stood from your seat and tossed the roses into the trash.

—

After a long day, you opened your door and shuffled inside. You were exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to grab a quick bite to eat and hit the sack. Within seconds of your return, Wilson was at your feet, meowing hopefully. You gave him a scratch behind the ears before leading him into the kitchen and putting cat food down for him.

You reached into the bowl of fruit and selected a peach. It was soft and ripe, and when you bit into it, the juice ran down your chin. You headed over to throw the pit in the trash, but something caught your eye.

An apple core in the middle of the table. What little flesh still clung to the fruit was still white, so it was fresh.

Someone was here.

You rushed back into the kitchen and made to grab your gun hidden in the bread box, but just as before in the museum, a voice halted your actions.

"Do you really think I would come in here without checking for weapons?"

The voice made a shiver course down your spine.

"Ben," you said. "Care to tell me why you’re in my home?"

"Why, my dear, I’m here to see you."

You felt your face getting hotter and hotter at the sound of his voice. It was gruff, but also smooth and luxurious.

"What for?" you said, though he heard the deep, shuddering breath you took before it and smiled.

"I think you already know," he purred coyly as he stepped forward. You backed away, but he kept advancing until he had you cornered. He placed his hands against the wall and leaned close to you.

"Wha-"

Again, he silenced you with a kiss. It was soft and light, but there was no hesitation. When he ended the kiss and looked at you again, there was a short pause with which you caught your breath, before you finally responded.

"Fuck it," you growled, before pulling him in for another kiss. This one was not gentle or sweet, but hot and intense. He groaned with want into the kiss, then hoisted you into his arms and carried you out of the kitchen and all the way to your bedroom without breaking the kiss.

When he reached the bed, he dropped you gently and crawled on top of you, resuming his romantic attack on your mouth and neck.

His tongue was amazingly talented, and you moaned lewdly when it made contact with the delicate skin of your throat.

"If you’re still here when I wake up," you said sighing contently, "after we’ve finished…I’m arresting you."

He trailed his mouth further down your body, which he was undressing layer by layer.

"Ah, but this is what makes this all so fun," he purred against the bare skin of your collarbone.

—

When you woke up, your body was sore, but pleasantly so from hours and hours of raw, passionate sex. You stretched, and every muscle felt like it had been massaged.

You rolled over, taking some of the bedsheets with you, and to your relief, Ben wasn’t lying there beside you.

You felt terrible about it, but you hadn’t wanted him to be there. You didn’t really want to arrest him.

Make no mistake, you still would. It was your job. But you wouldn’t like it.

Instead, lying on the pillow was a paper skull-and-crossbones. You picked it up, and carefully arranged underneath it was a piece of gold jewelry with a ruby and two diamonds.

The Senator’s necklace.

"That son of a bitch."


End file.
